


Withdrawal

by WayWardWonderer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Addiction, Bonding, Family, Fever, Friendship, Gen, Hangover, Healing, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Trust, Vomiting, Withdrawal, friends - Freeform, ill, sick, throwing up, withdraw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWonderer/pseuds/WayWardWonderer
Summary: Connor awakens to the sound of Hank being sick in the middle of the night and goes to investigate. What he discovers is less of an illness and more of a cry for help as the detective endures the beginning of one of the toughest challenges of his life.(*Now featured in the "Accident Prone" series)





	Withdrawal

Laying on the couch and resting peacefully to allow his self-healing program to repairing his 'busted rib'; as Hank had called it, Connor felt no pain, and was finally able to jumpstart his self-healing program into full power. Wearing his dark jeans and his white dress shirt with the white bandages somewhat obscured beneath the fabric, the less formal attire made the android look entirely human save for the L.E.D. that still glowed blue at a steady pulse in his right temple even as he slept.

Sumo, the loyal and affectionate St. Bernard, was sleeping between the couch and the coffee table to keep Connor company. It was a gesture the dog had picked up shortly after Connor moved in and the deviant android didn't mind the large dog watching over him in the least.

Connor was laying on his back on the couch in Hank's livingroom, his system deep in rest mode for the night, when his auditory sensors picked up an alarming sound coming from the bathroom of the small house. Sitting upright on the couch with minor difficulty Connor swung his legs over the edge, careful not to step on Sumo in the process, and listened intently to the odd sound resonating down the hallway.

"Lieutenant?" Connor called out as he stood upright on shaky legs and looked to the closed bathroom door. Connor's L.E.D. was flickering yellow instead of blue as the distressing sound drew his full attention. "Lieutenant, are you alright?"

Sumo, who had awoken by the same sound, lifted his head and whimpered slightly as he too sensed something was wrong.

The sound continued followed by a choking and coughing fit that grew louder and louder over the passing seconds. The sound was too distinct and too pained to be ignored as Connor knew that his human companion was in some form of physical distress.

"Hank? Lieutenant?" Connor walked around the couch and down the hallway to stand outside the closed door. His yellow tinted L.E.D. glowed brightly in the dark hallway and illuminated the silhouette of his face as he placed his hand on the bathroom door and knocked once. "Are you alright?"

There was no answer, only the sound of pain and coughing once again. Connor had finally identified the sound as vomiting; a symptom of illness as well as poisoning. It was something he had experienced with Hank the night he had found the detective passed out on the kitchen floor and required his assistance to investigate the deplorable 'Eden Club'.

"Hank, are you ill?" Connor called knowingly through the door as he knocked again. "May I come in?"

No answer.

"Hank?"

Checking the doorknob Connor found that door had been thankfully left unlocked. Turning the knob slowly Connor pushed open the door gently and peered inside the dimly lit room to check on the sick detective. Hank was on his knees in front of the toilet, his face was frighteningly pale and drenched in a cold sweat. Traces of vomit was dripping from his lips as he heaved what little contents that remained in stomach into the basin that his hands were clutching onto so desperately to keep himself upright.

"Hank?" Connor entered the room and put his left hand over Hank's sweaty forehead and his right hand against the middle of Hank's back to support the violently sick detective. The action was almost automatic as it had been the same reaction Hank had shown toward Connor whenever Connor himself had been ill in the past. "What happened?"

"F-Fine." Hank stammered out in an open lie as he spit the lingering foul taste in his mouth into the porcelain bowl. His entire body was trembling from weakness as a result of the chronic vomiting fit, and was suffering from a fever. "I'm fine..."

"No, you're not." Connor refuted as he easily scanned the human's vitals signs and processed Hank's current condition. The detective was suffering with elevated vitals and body temperature that made Connor righteously worried. "I'm detecting an imbalance in your gamma-aminobutyric acid as a result of-"

"Connor! Shut up!"

Connor paused for a moment as Hank's back suddenly tensed beneath his touch while Hank proceeded to vomit once more. The detective continued to throw up violently and Connor turned his focus entirely toward keeping his friend as stable as possible until the physically exerting episode transpired. The more Hank vomited the more erratic his vitals became: his heart began to race and pound, and his body temperature would temporarily spike from increased blood pressure.

"I'm- I'm fine..." Hank mumbled as he spat once again into the bowl before him. He reached a shaking hand up and pushed Connor's own hand from his forehead Hank turned onto his hip to sit down on the cold linoleum floor, and leaned back against the side of the cool bathtub. "I'm okay..."

Connor looked down at the ill detective with a heavy heart. The soulfulness of Connor's eyes betrayed the mounting concern that he knew Hank would simply dismiss as if nothing were wrong.

"What?" Hank snapped as he pressed a hand to his sweaty forehead, his gray locks of hair clung uncomfortably to his face from the collected sweat. "What the fuck are you staring at?"

"Hank, I'm detecting an alarming change in your vital signs: heart palpitations, tremors, nausea and an elevated temperature despite no present infection being isolated in your system... I've also detected no trace of alcohol in your blood. These are all symptoms of-"

"Of WHAT?" Hank demanded, his face pale and his body shaking as if he were cold. "What Connor? Spit it out!"

"Hank, you're going through withdrawal."

"I'm..." Hank tried to deny what Connor was telling him, but he was too tired and too weak to argue. Especially since he knew Connor was right.

"You've cut back on your alcohol considerably, but you haven't had anything to drink in two days. Your body is beginning to have a negative reaction to the sudden lack of ethanol."

"No, shit..." Hank panted as he leaned back against the tub until he head was resting atop the edge. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily through the nausea and his headache to focus on the android. "I stopped because you said I should. So... way to go! Happy?"

"Why would I be happy to see you ill?" Connor looked sincerely hurt by the comment. His eyes were full of sorrow and his face was holding a slight grimace. "I want to help you."

"If want to help me then leave me alone! Beat it! Let me be miserable in peace..."

"I-"

"I said get out of here!" Hank shouted angrily as his entire body felt like burning hell. "Piss off you fuckin' robot!"

Connor's L.E.D. flashed to red as the comment affected him on an emotional level that had previously never been offended by Hank's temper and outbursts. Squaring his jaw defiantly Connor stood his ground and refused to leave the sick detective alone. As his L.E.D. returned to a yellow glow Connor turned on the faucet in the sink and reached for a clean washcloth resting on the small shelf to his right. Soaking the washcloth under the cold tap Connor turned off the faucet and wrung out the excess water.

"What're you doing?" Hank snarled as he watched Connor at the sink from the corner of his eye. "Go on! Leave me alone!"

"No, Hank."

"No? What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean, no. I won't leave you alone."

Connor walked over to the tub and sat down on the cold floor beside Hank. Connor reached his arm around behind Hank's neck and pressed the washcloth against Hank's forehead gently as a means of trying to provide even a modicum of comfort to his suffering friend. Hank's neck was propped up against Connor's bicep and seemed to find the presence more comfortable than the surface of the cold tub.

Stubborn as ever Hank tried to push away but Connor, who was just as stubborn, wouldn't let him. "Connor! Get out of here!"

"Not this time..."

"Fuck off! I don't need your help!"

"Actually, Lieutenant, you do." The attentive android ran a scan over Hank's vital signs and noted the still irregular heartbeat, as well as the detective's steadily climbing core temperature. "Forgive me for this."

Wrapping both arms around Hank's chest Connor hauled the sick man up to his feet and lifted him up from the ground just enough to step into the bathtub, while hefting Hank inside with him. Standing in the middle of the shower Connor turned Hank around, his hand right hand holding Hank in place by the back of his shirt collar to make him face the shower head, as reached out with his right hand and turned on the water.

"FUCK!" Hank swore as he tried to fight out of Connor's grip as soon as the cold water hit him in the face. The slick surface of the tub and his stunted reflexes made the action moot and graceless. "Turn that shit off!"

"I can't." The deviant android mumbled as he adjusted the temperature of the water to keep it cool but not skin piercing cold. "You need this."

"Let me go!"

"I won't do that."

"Fuckin' piece of-"

Hank reached a hand around to try to swing at Connor but he missed, and if Connor wasn't already holding onto him he would've slipped and bashed his head against the tile wall. Slumped down weakly in defeat against Connor's chest Hank let his legs give out on him, and he fell to his knees in the tub. Connor supported Hank's weight and helped him to kneel on the bottom of the tub at a controlled pace, and let Hank lean against him entirely.

"...Connor, why are you helping me?" Hank asked in a pathetic whisper as he closed his eyes and ignored the cool water running down his back, making his gray t-shirt cling to his skin uncomfortably and his gray locks of hair cling to his forehead. "...Why waste your time on an old drunk who just yells, and is Hellbent on self-destruction?"

"Because you're my friend." The answer was as simple as it was sincere. Connor's own hair was hanging down and clinging to his forehead in dark wet locks, his L.E.D. cycling a worried yellow in his temple. "I want to help you just as you helped me. You're a good man, Lieutenant. I know you are in pain and that you have difficulty in letting go of your past, I wish to help you move on just as you've helped me to move on from my own past."

Hank pressed his face into the middle of Connor's chest as he began to weep in irritation and emotional frustration. As he pressed his forehead against Connor's chest he could feel and hear the deviant android's heart beating and it made him feel even worse for how he had been treating Connor. "I'm sorry, kid."

"It's okay, Hank."

"No it's not. I've been a huge asshole to you and all you've done is help me." As he choked back a sob he tried to curl around himself and ended up falling onto his hip beside Connor. "Maybe it's better that Cole isn't here. If he saw me like this-"

"Lieutenant, NO."

"...I'm pathetic."

"No. You're in pain."

"I should be stronger than this."

"You're the strongest person I know. You continued to work to protect everyone in the city despite your loss. That's a sign of strength, not weakness."

"I'm so ashamed of myself."

"Don't be." Adjusting his position so he was sitting on the bottom of the tub Connor let Hank lean up against him again as he sat with his distraught, ill friend in a supportive manner. "You just need to give yourself time to heal, and you need to forgive yourself. That's what you've tried to tell me to do whenever I blamed myself for situations I cannot be held accountable for. Why should you expect anything different from yourself?"

The deviant reached over and turned off the water as he pulled Hank's arm around his shoulders and helped him to climb back out of the tub, and sit down on the floor to catch his breath. Taking a towel from the nearby stack beside the sink Connor draped it around Hank's shoulders to try to make him feel more comfortable. Repeating the motion with cool, damp washcloth Connor pressed it to Hank's feverish forehead to try to quell his fever.

Hank grabbed onto Connor's wrist with the intention of forcibly pushing the android's hand away from his forehead, but something deep down inside of him made him stop. Sighing wearily Hank acknowledged that he had been defeated and begrudgingly leaned into the cool washcloth in Connor's hand as the deviant android stayed at his side. "Connor?"

"Yes?"

"I'm still sorry for yelling at you."

Connor's L.E.D. returned to blue upon hearing Hank's tone of voice soften as he apologized. "It's okay, Hank. I _want_ to help you."

Hank's eyes closed and his breathing became deeper, slower as he steadily drifted off into a light sleep at Connor's side.

A smile crept over Connor's face as he patiently sat with his friend on the cold bathroom floor, ready to aid the detective if he fell into another bout of sickness or collapsed from exhaustion. With a gentle motion Connor pulled Hank a little closer until the detective's head was now resting against up his shoulder. It was a gesture that Connor had witnessed amongst deviants aboard Jericho as a sign of trust in one another, and felt that the motion would be beneficial in the moment.

Hank silently agreed as he let himself fall asleep against the android's shoulder.

"...Thanks, son."

"You're welcome." Glancing about the dimly lit bathroom Connor reached up to the towel rack just to the side of the sink and pulled down a clean towel into his hand. Lightly he used it to wipe away the collected sweat on Hank's forehead and the residual vomit around his mouth. "I'm glad I could help you, Hank."

* * *

The following morning crept in slowly and Connor waited for Hank to show any sign of consciousness before he tried to move the detective out of the bathroom to take him back into his bedroom to rest. Throughout the night Hank's vital signs began to steady and Connor was satisfied that Hank was no longer in immediate danger.

"Hank?" He stated in a low voice to rouse the detective. "I need you to wake up now."

Muttering something incoherent under his breath Hank opened his glassy, pained eyes and looked at Connor somewhat confused.

"I need you to wake up for just for a moment." Connor explained calmly. "Once I have you in your bedroom you can continue to sleep."

Allowing Hank to continue to lean against his side Connor pulled Hank's arm around his shoulder, and slowly stood up from where he was sitting. As Connor moved he gently pulled Hank along with him until the detective was standing on his trembling legs, and barely awake.

"Just a few steps, Hank. That's all you need to take."

Awkwardly, but effectively, Connor led Hank down the hallway and back into the detective's bedroom. Gently he guided Hank back down onto his bed and under the large quilt that was thrown to the side in his haste to make it to the bathroom the night before. Pulling the quilt back up to cover Hank's trembling form Connor placed his hand down gently on the detective's chest to check his heart rate and his breathing before retracting his palm quietly to press to Hank's forehead for a fever check. Despite Hank being so ill the night before he was now markedly improved and his fever had since broken entirely.

Without a word Connor turned to leave the room but was stopped short by a faint voice calling his name.

"...Connor?"

Turning back curiously the android stared at the bleary eyed detective watching him from the bed. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"... _Hank_ , kid." The groggy detective replied somewhat sternly. "Call me, 'Hank'."

"Yes, Hank?" Connor corrected himself respectfully where he stood. "Are you feeling unwell?"

"I feel like shit and my head's killing me, but that's not what I wanted to say right now."

Remaining silent Connor waited for the exhausted detective to continue on with his thought.

"...Thanks for taking care of me last night." His words still a little slurred but he was entirely conscious and coherent. "I know I was a dick and yelled at you, so I just wanted to say sorry. Again."

"It's okay, Hank. I know you didn't mean anything you said." Giving Hank a reassuring grin Connor nodded once and backed toward the bedroom door. "I'll bring you some water and some aspirin. It'll help your headache and give you the chance to rehydrate yourself as he rest."

"Hey, Connor?"

"Yes?" Pausing at the opened doorway the android studied Hank's demeanor carefully as he turned to glance at the ill detective over his shoulder.

"Thanks for everything, son."

Being called 'son' had an unexpectedly warm feeling in his heart, and he faintly smiled. "...You're welcome."

_**-The End** _


End file.
